


Receiving horrible presents

by fuzzyfying



Series: December Fanfiction Challenge [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Sympathetic Magic, Voodoo, fiona fic, sassy Grandma Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 14:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3138440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyfying/pseuds/fuzzyfying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dec 14: Receiving horrible presents</p>
            </blockquote>





	Receiving horrible presents

Stiles was the _worst._

This wasn’t the first time Derek had had this particular sentiment and he knew it wouldn’t be the last– but that didn’t make it any less true.

“Thank you– so much,” Derek bit out to the rugose woman in front of him. The present was wrapped perfectly– sharp, even creases and a symmetrically tied bow, complete with a sprig of Mistletoe firmly attached to the corner. Derek fought to keep his hold on the gift, maintaining a gritted smile through sheer force of will as the pervasive scent of the plant filled his nose and lungs. A desperate glance at Stiles told Derek he wasn’t going to find any help there. The kid was tangled in laughter, and Derek wasn’t about to risk appearing rude by shoving the present off into Stiles’ unwilling hands.

Even her _wrinkles_ had wrinkles. Yet there was a depth that had been given with age, and as far as Derek could see that the tiny, doddering old lady was made up of nothing but the same coiling lines of unmellowed humour that made up her grandson.There was a sharpness in her eyes that refuted any outward signs of degeneration, and the smile that twisted her lips held the glittering lashings that waited to spill from her tongue - a tongue Derek had no doubt would be just as silver-coated and razor sharp as Stiles’.

Stiles snickered at his side. Derek’s hands burned.

“Of course dear– It’s so nice to finally meet you. Stiles doesn’t talk about very many people the way he does about you, so you must be doing something right.” she winked, “but it goes without saying, of course, that if you hurt him and I’ll have your spleen in a pickle jar. Which would be a shame to say the least–  Stiles, you said he was pretty but you neglected to mention what an understatement that was.”

Stiles didn’t bother trying to look anything other than amused, “Let him breathe, Grandma. And he’s not here for the boyfriend stamp of approval– he’s my alpha.”

Derek blinked. Did Stiles really just– how the hell was he supposed to explain that one?

“Oh, come off it, Sourwolf, she _knows_.”

“She what?” Derek looked at the mistletoe. There was definitely a genetic trait for sense of humour. He slammed the box into Stiles gut, who made a noise of protest but took the gift anyway, removing the mistletoe and handing it back roughly.

“The spark has to come from somewhere.” Grandma Stilinski’s grin was frighteningly similar to her grandson’s.

Derek stared dumbly. It must be true what they say about evil skipping a generation.

“Oh honey,” Stiles’ grandmother turned to him and shook his head sadly, “he’s lucky to have you.”

“He’s a man of few words, it’s true, but trust me when I say that there’s more happening under that big ol’ blank face than it seems.” Derek glared and flashed his eyes pointedly.

“Oh yeah, you’re real scary, big guy. I’m terrified.” Stiles cooed, reaching out to ruffle Derek’s hair. The were rolled his eyes.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Grandma Stilinski gestured to the bright-red package still nestled in Derek’s hands.

Derek smiled blandly.

“Yes, of course.”

He popped out a claw, gauging the old lady’s reaction subtly– she didn’t so much as blink. Carefully, he sliced through the wrapping paper, careful to throw away the casing instead of letting it fall to the floor as he usually would. Opening the box, he choked slightly. Derek opened his mouth to ask what it was but before he could say anything Stiles was already there, oohing and ahhing. The smell wafting out of the cardboard box was so strong that Derek was amazed he hadn’t smelled it through the packaging– whatever had been masking it’s scent was obviously very strong. He wondered if Grandma Stilinski would mind giving them some. of it.

“That one’s mainly for Stiles’, obviously.”

Beaming, Stiles pulled the ratty mess of the doll out gingerly. “Is this an original?” he breathed in awe, apparently oblivious to the greenish sludge dripping down his hand.

“Of course.” she sounded affronted that he would imply it was anything but.

“Wh– what is it?” Derek hadn’t meant to ask, not now, when it was obvious he was the only one out of the loop.

Grandma Stilinski didn’t seem to mind his cluelessness. “ It’s a poppet, Poppet.” Both Stilinskis took a second to enjoy the joke, “it’s used for sympathetic magic. Similar to what people think of when they imagine Voodoo– though of course Voodoo didn’t originally incorporate any dolls into their practices.”

“Right.” Derek was too concerned with the idea of Stiles being able to use “sympathetic magic” to pay much attention to the history lesson.

He turned to the object of his concern, asking tentatively, “What does this mean for you, Stiles?”

The boy was practically vibrating with excitement, “It means so much. So much.” Derek waited patiently– there was no point in doing anything else when he got like this anyway. “Like, for example, if we have another issue like with the Alpha Pack or something if I just get a drop of blood or a hair or dead skin or something I can see what they see, hear what they hear. If I get really good I can put ideas in their head or affect how they see something.”

“That’s… not what I thought sympathetic magic was.”

“Well it’s not. I mean sympathetic magic is where I’ll have to start– making people feel things…”

Derek turned back to Grandma Stilinski, she was looking at him strangely but he didn’t have time to figure out why, “What’s the learning curve like?” He asked lowly, not wanting to rain on Stiles parade just yet.

“For Stiles? Steep. Once he gets it he’ll have it but until then any failures will either be nothing or disaster. And you won’t know which is worse.”

Derek let out a breath. “You’re going to practice on me, and _only_ me.” he looked Stiles dead in the eye, which was a feat in of itself to be honest. The kid would not stay still. “Hey, hey, look at me. You promise?”

“I can’t do that! What if I hurt you?”

“Then we’ll stop, or I’ll get over it.”

“And if it’s not something you can get over?”

“It will have to be, won’t it?”

“You were right about him Stiles.” Derek looked up, confused. He was not enjoying this visit. “You’re a good Alpha, Boy.”

Derek nodded gravely, he wasn’t sure what he was going on but he understood the weight Grandma Stilinski’s approval held.

“But you’re stupid as hell.” she continued, “you’re seriously about to let this little imp practice _sympathetic magic_ on you? He can barely tie his own shoes when he gets excited and you’re just going to let him have at it? You’re an alpha, I get it, but there’s a point in which protecting yourself is protecting everyone else. If you’re gone who’s supposed to step up to the plate? Scott?” she laughed, “That boy can’t even feed himself if there’s a pretty girl in the room. Not only are you the alpha, but you’re the adult, and you need to start acting like it.”

Derek opened his mouth, thinking that this was probably a good time to jump in.

“Don’t you interrupt me, Boy. I’m not finished.” her face softened, “You’re important, Derek. Not every solution starts with self-sacrifice.”

She raised a hand before he even opened his mouth again, “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard enough from Stiles already. I know that you would put your pack before yourself, and that’s noble, and I’m not going to condemn you for that, but if you’re going to put Stiles practicing magic before you, that’s a problem.” Looking him up and down, she added, “and do you really think I would just hand that over to the two of you and expect Stiles to learn on his own?”

Derek looked at his shoes, feeling significantly younger than the adult she had told him to be.

“And _you_ ,” she swung a finger in front of Stiles face, “Just because he would do anything for you doesn’t mean you’re allowed to take advantage of that.”

Derek thought about denying that particular claim, but one look at Grandma Stilinski had him reevaluating that course of action instantly. She clearly knew the truth.

“Love is a powerful magic, child, I wouldn’t take it for granted if I were you.”

What? When had they started talking about love?

Grandma Stilinski drew her hand up, plucking at invisible strings that tugged deep in Derek’s stomach. Stiles looked similarly uncomfortable.

“I can see the ties that bind you, and they are persistent, but fragile yet.” She pulled hard in the air and Stiles turned green, “That one’s pack.” She pulled again and the floor lurched beneath Derek’s feet, “and that’s the two of you. You can protect that, shelter it, feed it, and let it grow– or you can turn a blind eye to it, ignore it and hope it goes away. If you do the former, you’ll have a valuable resource in the future, the type of power that can fuel a lot. If you do the latter, those bonds may fade, or they may not, but whatever comes of the festering rot you two are fostering can only hurt you in the end. All of you.” Derek recognized the pull of pack this time when Grandma Stilinski gestured again. “Wolves mate for life Derek, you know that. You’re not protecting anyone like this.”

This was happening a little too quickly for Derek’s liking. He wasn’t sure he liked how well this woman seemed to understand him, not even Stiles was that tuned in to his emotions.

Speaking of Stiles, the innocent doe eyes that took over his face whenever something he didn’t understand happened were making an appearance. “mate?” he whispered, half to himself.

Derek wasn’t much better off.

“What?” his voice was flat.

"A spark and an Alpha can't play any slow build game like the rest of the world. Stiles' emotions and his power are almost interchangeable in meaning. His power draws from feeling. Alphas have a network of pack to care and tend for, they can't have their single most important link rot in neglect." she waited for her words to process before switching back into what seemed to be her normal mode– Derek was starting to get whiplash, "Though, to be honest I can't believe you're so oblivious to begin with." Grandma Stilinski made another gesture in the air, this time more gentle and less aggressive. Instead if the sickening tilt he had braced himself for Derek found himself feeling, pretty good actually. There was a pull, yes, but not as tight, more like, warm and welcoming one way and cold and hard another.

“Anyway, dears, now that the fun stuff is over, why don’t you open your other presents?”

Derek and Stiles looked at each other, blinking, before Derek turned back and nodded.

“Excellent! I know you’ll like the sweater.”

Derek did like the sweater, although it seemed remarkably tame after the first present. She also offered them a few books about magic, some hand-knit socks, and a truly absurd amount of fudge. After the gift giving was done, she offered them some hot chocolate and then ushered them out the door.

They were halfway back to Beacon Hills before Stiles spoke up.

“Derek?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

“I think I love you.”

Derek looked over at the pale mess of lean muscle and magic he called his boyfriend, Grandma Stilinski’s words echoing in his head. _Mate._

“I love you too, Stiles.”

  
  



End file.
